


The Lover

by supernaturallylost



Series: Rehabilitation [11]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Angst, Artist Castiel, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 12:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4625229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernaturallylost/pseuds/supernaturallylost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being verbally assaulted, Castiel is shaken. The whole ride home, he is silent and on the brink of tears. When he, Sam and Dean arrive home, he can't hold them back any longer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lover

“I’m so sorry,” Dean rushed, closing the door behind them. “Cas, come here.”

Castiel quickly leaned into Dean, his eyes red with shame, his nose running with anxiety, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He was pathetically slouched against Dean, allowing himself to be comforted just for a minute.

“What happened?” Sam asked hurriedly, dropping the keys of the impala on the entryway table. He shook his head incredulously and said, “You never let me drive.”

“Cas needed me,” Dean answered quietly while Cas’s shoulders shook.

Cas had tried to hold back his tears the entire silent drive home, but now he was a mess of silent tears.

“That man was right,” Cas mumbled. “He is right.”

“Don’t say that,” Dean answered firmly. “That guy was an asshole.”

“What guy?” Sam asked, completely left out.

“Guy at the store,” Dean answered, rubbing along Cas’s spine. “He thought Cas was homeless and reacted like a jerk. Basically called Cas worthless.”

Sam clenched his fists. He picked up the keys to the impala and looked Dean straight in the eye.

“Which guy?” he asked seriously.

“Put the keys down; I already punched him,” Dean answered while Cas gripped his coat. “Look, can you wash Cas’s new clothes while I help him?”

Cas hiccupped against Dean’s shoulder, his eyes scrunched tightly.

Sam nodded gently, dropped the keys again, and watched Dean lead Cas to the privacy of his room.

 

While Dean closed the door quickly, Castiel sat on the bed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “but Dean, he was right. I’m relying on you two when I should be on my own, and I need to repay you for all of this, and he was right, Dean, he was right. I have a smell everywhere I go, and I’m dirty and I’m broken and I have no money to my name. I don’t have anything, Dean.”

Dean sighed lightly.

“You have me,” he said gently. Slowly, he reached down under the nightstand and pulled out a picture frame. “You have Sam.”

Dean held the picture, facing down, out to Cas.

“You have this,” he whispered. He took Cas’s hands and put them to either side of the frame, gently running his fingers over Cas’s in the process.

“Dean, I’m not worth it,” Cas whispered.

“Look at the picture, Cas,” Dean nodded.

Slowly, Dean stepped over, sat beside Castiel, wrapped his arm over his shoulder, and looked down at the frame. Cas turned it over and saw something pressed onto a black piece of paper. In less than a second, he knew what it was.

“The rose,” he half whined, half laughed. “You saved it.”

Dean smiled.

“It’s yours, Cas,” he shrugged lightly, knowing fully well how much the pressed rose meant to him. “I hope it reminds you how worth it you are. You have value, Cas. Your value is in your humility, your kindness, your gentleness… your humanity.”

Cas looked up, with fresh tears in his eyes. These tears, however, were accompanied not by a frown, but a smile. Slowly, that smile moved closer and closer to Dean’s.

Finally, Cas’s lips briefly touched Dean’s, sucking softly for a small second on his bottom lip.

“Thank you,” Cas said gently. “You should go make dinner now.”

Dean’s brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I can stay here, if you want. Sam can cook if he needs to.”

Cas shook his head.

“No, you go ahead. I might take a nap.”

Dean nodded. The day had been surprisingly exhausting. Reluctantly, he stood, gave Cas a hug, discreetly smelled the vanilla and ocean scents on Cas, and nodded.

“I’ll come wake you up in an hour, okay?” he said in the doorway.

Cas nodded.

 

After the door closed, Cas got to work.

 

Thirty minutes passed. Cas was running out of time.

 

Forty minutes. Cas was running out of space.

 

Fifty five minutes. Cas was running out of ideas.

 

An hour finally elapsed, and Cas leaned back from his seat on the floor. Predictably, the door behind him opened slowly.

“Dinner is done,” Dean said quietly.

Then he noticed Cas sitting on the floor, covered in red and white and blue and green and brown and yellow and purple paint. In front of him, the wall across from the bed was entirely painted, from corner to corner, edge to edge.

“Woah,” Dean sighed, walking forward slowly. “Did you do all of this in an hour?”

“It’s just preliminary,” Cas answered, using Dean’s outstretched hand to lift himself to his feet. “I’ll have to add the details later. Right now it just looks abstract or geometric.”

Dean shook his head.

“It’s beautiful, Cas.”

In front of them was an entire wall of color. The dull white walls on either side perfectly framed the intense colors. Cas had created a masterpiece on one wall. In it, two small dark purple and black silhouettes sat with their backs to the viewer. One figure’s head was using the others’ shoulder as a headrest. In front of them was the gray and blue of a metal locomotive, with green pastures, red and blue wildflowers, and birch trees out of the humongous far windows. The entire piece took the entire wall, and it immediately brought Dean back to when Cas fell asleep on his shoulder on the bus.

“I changed it,” Cas explained awkwardly, “from a bus to a train. It seems a lot more romantic this way.”

“What’s it called?” Dean asked, dismissing Cas’s embarrassment.

Cas cleared his throat.

“The Lover,” he answered quietly. “I thought about adding a few more…”

All of the sudden, Cas was pushed against the far wall, caught in Dean’s grip as Dean kissed him repeatedly. Cas gripped his paintbrush tightly for a moment before dropping it and wrapping his hands around Dean.

“I love it,” Dean said between kisses. “It’s beautiful.”

Cas blushed as Dean kissed down his cheeks and jaw and neck.

“You’re beautiful,” Dean added, slowing his kisses and turning his outburst into a simple embrace. He leaned his head against Cas’s cheekbone, smiling with elation. “Thank you, Cas, for adding color to my life.”

Cas ran a hand through the small hairs on the back of Dean’s neck.

“I thought,” Sam shouted from down the hallway, “dinner was ready!”

Dean laughed into Cas’s neck, which tickled Cas.

“Coming!” Dean shouted back, though the shout was muffled around Cas’s lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this! Your support of this series has meant the world to me. I love you!


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